Lirt Lars gazed out the orphanage window with somber eyes, the hellfire ahead of him causing his wrinkled skin to feel a burning heat that he had not felt in years. He clutched his wooden cane with bony hands, cracked nails causing scratches in the only tool he had that allowed him to walk. A single tear ran down his withering face. So, you've finally done it, he thought with a feeling of resignation. I always knew that you would, but never in this manner. Upon beholding the smoke and fire that burned the city around him, he let out a silent apology to all of the people that were now nothing more than ashes. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, that boy is what he is because of my failures.
"Grandpa Lars, what's going on?"
Lirt turned as the young voice spoke, a dozen or so children had been gathered in the only building that had not been set aflame. A few refugees had also taken shelter, hugging each other and reassuring their loved ones that everything would be alright. Lirt's wife slowly hobbled over to him, assisted by the white haired child that the pair had become so fond of. Only the three of them fully understood the dire reality of what horrors were being unleashed outside. "Why hasn't he come yet?" His wife asked quietly.
Lirt slowly removed his glasses with aged hands, rubbing the nook between his eyes and nose. "He will come," he said in a hushed whisper. He didn't want the other children hearing what they were speaking of. "Right now he wants us to see what has become of him, what he's capable of doing."
The young girl with white hair was visibly shaking with fright, she was the one of the only children besides him to escape from the orphanage massacre just a few years ago, and she knew what Lark was able to do. "He's coming for me, isn't he?"
"No my dear, we won't let him find you." He hugged her, rubbing her angelic hair in a futile attempt to comfort her. It was time for them to evacuate. "Everyone, follow me please." They obliged, both the orphans and the others who found safety under Lirt's roof. His wife and the girl both held his hand, and he dropped the cane he had held for the past ten years. He led them into the basement, and he unlatched a small trapdoor that would lead to an underground tunnel. The dimly lit passage ran for miles, but wadding through the muddy straight would allow them to survive. The orphans went first, then the other survivors, until it was only his wife and the girl. She gave them both one last hug, sobbing into their rugged shirts.
"Please Grandpa and Grandma Lars, come with us!"
He shook his head sadly. Even if the married couple wanted to escape, their elderly bodies would give out in the passage below. "Sweet child, their is a time in everyone's life where they must muster up all the courage they have and face their worst mistakes. It is finally time for me to confront my most grievous errors." He took the girl by the shoulders, and looked into her eyes. "Listen to me, Arlia. No matter what happens to us, you must not give in to the hate. Revenge only breeds more revenge, it's a horrible circle that must be stopped. You're better than that!" Tears ran like a river down his face as he said goodbye. "You are a beautiful, radiant gem. You must never become a monster, you must never become like him."
She nodded, and climbed down the short ladder into the darkness below, pale hands vanishing from view as she descended to join the other survivors. Lirt and his wife pushed a rug and a dresser over the door, they could not risk Lark discovering it. They held hands, they knew what fate awaited them. "She used to remind me of him, you know," his wife said softly. "They both came here around the same time, and they were both quiet, mostly keeping to themselves. Then they became friends. The way they acted around each other, it's as if they were the only two people in the entire galaxy. Something happened. Now, Arlia has something that Lark hasn't had in years. She has the most wonderful, human expressions on her face." She sighed as they used what little remaining strength they had to walk up the stairs. "What did we do to him?"
He shook his head, saying nothing. They sat in their rocking chairs in the main room, a home for children who lost their families, a place they could find a new one. A playground for children to run and play and forget about all the worries in the world, now barren and silent. "Human flesh is to fragile, to small to hold the inhuman foulness that Lark has become. We could not possibly have done that to him, he was an abomination before he came to us." But he only half believed his own words. He held his wife's hand in one final embrace, and awaited the terror that they helped spawn into the world.
[member="Dax Fyre"] [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Causstik Rahn"] @Kimiko
